


The Favor of Herons

by Ashenclaw



Category: Magic: The Gathering
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 16:50:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7446616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashenclaw/pseuds/Ashenclaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thalia has her work cut out for her as the head of the Order of Saint Traft. New horrors appear daily to threaten the humans of Innistrad, including the newly formed Lunarch Council and the archangel Avacyn herself. Even with the unexpected favor of the angel Sigarda, Thalia's job as a guardian won't be easy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Arrival

When Thalia founded the Order of Saint Traft, she hadn't expected it to require quite this much paperwork. As she sat at her desk in her makeshift office, a dusty room in a corner of the rundown cathedral, she contemplated delegating the tedious task to one of her lieutenants. When Thalia remembered the look on Gerda's face the last time she asked the cathar to sort through the sea of letters, she laughed and abandoned the notion. A knock at her door pulled her out of her musings.

"Come in" Thalia said, and couldn't help but to smile as Gerda opened the wooden door with a creak. "Ah, Gerda, I was just thinking of you."

The lieutenant glanced at the pile of letters on Thalia's desk and grimaced, clearly remembering the assortment of papercuts she received during her last encounter with those letters. "Thalia, there is someone who is here to speak with you." Gerda paused for a moment after that, measuring Thalia's response.

"Alright," Thalia said when she was no longer able to wait out the silence, "who might this 'someone' be?" In the months since the order's formation, Thalia had only spoken with its namesake, Saint Traft's geist, on a few occasions. The dead had full schedules, apparently. "Is it another envoy from flight Heron?" She tapped her finger against the letter she had been writing, a carefully worded response to an Order priest in Kessig who was requesting aid in their efforts to locate some nameless necromancer. Thalia's response to the request was short; the Order was too busy suppressing the werewolf resurgence to bother with a would-be ghoulcaller. More often than not Thalia's visitors were angels from the only flight that seemed to resist the corruption that have overwhelmed flights Goldnight and Alabaster. Still, Thalia had learned to be wary of angels in recent times, regardless of their flight.

Gerda shuffled uncomfortably. "I suppose the most accurate answer is 'yes'."

Thalia raised her eyebrows in confusion but nodded and stood nonetheless, the legs of her wooden chair grinding against the stone flooring. "I will return when our business is finished, then. Thank you, Gerda."

"Thalia?" said Gerda as her commander exited the room.

"Yes?"

"Would you like me to…" Gerda gestured to the letters.

"No, that's quite alright," laughed Thalia, as Gerda very clearly failed to hide her relief.

* * *

 

Thalia's boots tapped loudly against each stony step of the spiraling staircase as she made her way to the cathedral's loft. The loft, like the rest of the chapel, was forgotten and isolated when Thalia and the Order took it up as residence, informed of its location in Nephalia by Saint Traft himself. The rebuilding and restoration of the holy site was still going on, but the loft was the first part to be restored, a feat Thalia had undertaken herself. She wasn't sure if she had really expected any angels to come once the loft was restored, and when the first envoy of flight Heron, Sigarda's host, did arrive Thalia was more than a little skeptical about them. But the flight had proven to be stalwart allies nonetheless. Flight Heron may not have been as militant a host as flight Goldnight, but their wards had proven themselves invaluable, especially in the forested areas along the coast where the dead did not rest easily. In the end Thalia was grateful for them, even if the distant attitude of the angels had proven to be a tad… discomforting.

The knight-cathar took a deep breath as she approached the doorway that led to the loft. "Here we go." She threw the door open, but the being who awaited her in the solar was no mere envoy of the angel Sigarda's flight.

The angel who stood before Thalia was Sigarda herself, her radiant white wings folded gently behind her.

"Thalia, founder of the Order of Saint Traft and comitant to flight Heron for these past few months. We finally meet." The angel nodded gently, a more personal greeting than Thalia had ever received from an angel before. She froze for a moment before dropping to one knee and bowing her head low.

"Sigarda," said Thalia, "it is an honor. The help from you and your flight has been invaluable to our efforts here." She raised her head and looked up at the angel in front of her, taking a brief moment to examine Sigarda while she had the chance. The angel seemed dressed for battle, heavily armored from the neck down. Her orange hair cascaded down her back, framing her face like the setting sun. Thalia stared, perhaps for too long.

"Is it customary for humans to simply look at each other for this long?" asked the angel. Thalia rose to her feet quickly, at a sudden loss for words.

"N-no, I mean, sometimes? I suppose it depends on the situation," came the knight-cathar's reply.

"The situation? You'll have to explain. I am not entirely familiar with human customs."

Thalia paused for a moment, debating on how best to handle the discussion, though she couldn't help but wonder how often Sigarda spoke with humans herself. More often than not the three sisters only communicated through their envoys.

"Well," Thalia began, "it is not uncommon for humans who share a certain… connection to find a sort of pleasure in each other's company. At times, looking into one another's eyes, among other things, is a sign of… favor."

Sigarda nodded slowly.

"I see. I believe I have seen other examples of humans showing favor to on another. I will keep that in mind. Thank you."

"Of course, Sigarda." Thalia stood still, trying her best not to fidget beneath the angel's gaze. "What business do you have with the Order, my lady?" Now it was Sigarda's turn to shuffle in an almost uncomfortable fashion, the feathers of her wings ruffling in a way Thalia had never seen before.

"I was visited by Avacyn and my sisters recently."

Thalia's fists clenched, and she was suddenly very aware of the empty spot at her side where her sword usually hung. She had left it in her office. If Avacyn's corruption had reached Sigarda, then…

"Don't worry, Thalia," Sigarda said, interrupting Thalia's mental downward spiral, "whatever grip she has on my sisters has not yet touched me. She did, however, make it abundantly clear that if I do not join her my own well-being, and that of my flight, is at risk."

Thalia's fists unclenched, though she was still unsure where Sigarda was going with all of this.

"As my solar can no longer be considered safe, and my flight and I are the only ones who know of your residency in this chapel-"

"You want to stay here, with the Order" Thalia finished.

"Yes, you do catch on quick." Sigarda smiled a small smile at Thalia. "I am not used to asking permission from humans, but if you allow it I would like to stay in this chapel. Only for a short time, until I can discover what it is that is causing my sisters and Avacyn to act so… unlike themselves."

Thalia nodded slowly, unaware of it even as she did. How does one deny the request of an angel? Especially one of the three sisters? Especially when that sister has been providing aid to the Order? Still, it was almost too unreal for Thalia to believe.

"Thank you, Thalia. I will not forget this kindness." Sigarda smiled again as she approached the knight-cathar.

"Of course, my lady. It is the least we of the Order can do to repay you and your-" Thalia's reply was cut short as the angel walked closer, forcing Thalia to look up to her (was she always so tall?), and pressed her lips against the knight-cathar's. She froze on the spot, refusing to so much as breath until the angel pulled away, a curious look on her face.

"Was that wrong? Is this not an action humans perform to display favor?" asked Sigarda.

Thalia didn't respond immediately. Rather, she couldn't respond immediately. She was still having trouble breathing, and she was painfully aware of how wide her eyes had become, though she

"O-of course. Yes. Favor."

"Very well. I will begin by inspecting the surrounding area and reinforcing the wards." Sigarda spread her wings wide and took to the air, exiting the loft, and leaving Thalia alone. She made her way to a chair in a corner of the loft and slumped down into it, doing her best wrap her mind about what had happened.

She, Thalia of the Order of Saint Traft, had just been kissed by an angel.


	2. Well Oiled

During the first week after the Order of Saint Traft occupied the Wittal Parish Thalia had established a sort of training ground behind it, not unlike Elgaud's own training grounds. Minus the burning of innocents, of course. It was smaller by comparison, though. There was only so much space with the surrounding trees, but it served its purpose well enough, even if Thalia was unable to spend as much time there as she would have liked. Across from Thalis stood Ernst, a cathar-initiate in his early thirties who had been a Nephalian merchant until recently, when a passing angel "purified" his home with fire, his wife and child still inside.

Ernst charged at Thalia, thrusting his sword towards her, and Thalia sidestepped. She raised her own blade, thinner than Ernst's, and slightly longer, and deflected his attack. Ernst stumbled past Thalia. Before he could catch his balance, Thalia tapped the edge of her sword against his side.

"You're dead," Thalia said. She tried to remember that he was still new to this, but if he dropped his guard like that in a real fight he would receive something far worse than a tap on the side. "I'm faster than you, Ernst," Thalia raised her sword and Ernst mimicked her, "You'll need to wait for an opening to press your attack." Ernst nodded, and this time it was Thalia who lunged forward, dropping low and thrusting her sword towards Ernst's chest. There was a clang of metal as Ernst's sword met her own, sending vibrations up her arms. The pair traded blows, and Ernst's motions were less erratic than they had been before. Thalia still had little difficulty deflecting his clumsy swipes, but progress was progress.

On the few days that Thalia did spend on the training grounds, her time was rarely spent with the initiates. There were other soldiers who had taken on the mantle of "teacher". Thalia, more often than not, spent her time there with Grete. Since the division of Avacyn's church, the cathars had been tense. Avacyn wasn't one for hearing people out nowadays; to stray from her Church to sin. Of course lately there hadn't been much that wasn't "sin" in the eyes of Avacyn and her Lunarch Council. Thankfully she had managed to bring Odric and Grete into the Order as well. But Odric was on patrol, and Grete had gone with him. Odric hadn't been the same since the escape from Thraben. With her usual sparring partners gone, Thalia was left with the initiates.

"Dead," she said again when her blade tapped against Ernst's stomach. But Ernst wasn't paying attention anymore, and Thalia made a note to bring that up with him. Instead his eyes were on the sky. Thalia followed suit just in time to see Sigarda as she soared over them and disappeared into the loft atop the parish's chapel.

"I don't like it," Ernst said, "the angels can't be trusted. She shouldn't be here."

"That's not your call to make, initiate," Thalia replied. "The Flight of Herons has proven to be a reliable ally. Your mistrust of them, Sigarda in particular, is a luxury we can ill afford."

Ernst narrowed his eyes and clenched his fists, grinding his teeth together hard.

"My 'mistrust' is not a thing you can comment on." Ernst sheathed his blade hard, the hilt smashing loudly into the top of the sheathe. "Not until your family is burnt to ashes by one of them." Ernst didn't wait for Thalia to reply, instead he turned on his heels and stormed back into the parish.

Thalia sheathed her blade. She wished the mistrust ended with Ernst, but she knew that was too much to ask for. He was far from being the only member of the Order that questioned the angel's presence. Few were opposed to the occasional envoy, but the ever-watching eyes of Flight Heron's leader made several initiates, and even a few of the knight-cathars, more than a little uncomfortable. Thalia couldn't really blame them, though. Ernst wasn't the only person to have lost everything to Avacyn's crusade, or the Lunarch Council's Inquisition. It didn't help that Sigarda hadn't yet mingled with the soldiers. Fear of the unknown was a necessity for survival. Thalia's assurance that Sigarda was on their side was all that the soldiers had, and she had to wonder when that would stop being enough.

"Thalia," said Gerda from behind her, "that was harsh."

"Gerda," Thalia whipped around to speak with her lieutenant, "I didn't see you." Thalia noticed that Gerda's curly blond hair hugged her head closely, matted in some places by sweat. "I see you've been hard at work with the initiates." She gestured to three young cathars-in-training who were watching the pair from the other side of the field.

"I was about to say the same to you." Gerda raised an eyebrow at her commander, an expression Thalia had learned was representative of disapproval. "Your approach to Ernst's distrust was handled… poorly, to say the least."

"I only told him the truth, Gerda. The Order is small, and we can't afford to be distrusting of one another. I need to know that these soldiers can be relied on.

"They need the same of you, Thalia."

Thalia didn't respond for a moment. She took a deep breath and gestured to the loft atop the chapel. "Do you think this was a mistake?"

"I think," Gerda said slowly, "that it was a mistake to make the decision on your own. Grete, Odric, and I are here to support you, commander. Try not to forget that."

Before Thalia could think of what to say next, Gerda had returned to her three initiates across the field.

* * *

 

Once again, Thalia found herself ascending the stairway that led to the loft. Sigarda's loft, Thalis reminded herself. The tapping of her boots against the stones echoed and bounced off of the walls just as they had two days before, when Sigarda first arrived. But this time Thalia stopped herself at the door. Before now it had always been Sigarda or her emissaries that came to Thalia. She had never gone to them first, and she wasn't sure how best to handle it.

Should I knock? Thalia asked herself. Or do I just open the door and walk in? Knock. Of course I should knock. She didn't want to intrude on Sigarda's privacy like that. Thalia tapped on the door lightly three times. She waited for what felt like hours (a total of thirty awkward seconds in reality) and then opened the door slowly. It glided open without so much as a squeak and Thalia took a moment to pride herself on how well she had oiled the hinges. She became especially thankful of the extra time she spent on that task when she saw Sigarda.

She was sleeping. Thalia wasn't sure why that was so unexpected, but it was. Sigarda sat in the same chair Thalia had found herself in after their last meeting. After the kiss, which Thalia had been trying very hard not to think about. What struck Thalia the most was how different Sigarda looked while she was asleep. She had abandoned her armor, and it was the first time Thalia had seen her, or any angel, unarmed. Instead Sigarda wore a long green tunic that fell to below her waist and split into several tips toward the bottom, as well as brown cloth pants that Thalia assumed were normally worn beneath the angel's chausses. She was barefoot apart from those.

In the time that Thalia had spent as a cathar she had discovered that, once you take a person out of their armor, they had a tendency to look smaller and softer. Sigarda was an exception. Even asleep there was no doubt that she was a hard woman, and Thalia found it difficult to look away from Sigarda's defined arms, toned from the use of her scythe (a weapon Thalia had once thought of as impractical.)

Sigarda's wings hung slack and reached to the floor on either side of her body, framing her like one of the stained glass windows in the lower chapel. But the open book in her lap, the way her head was propped up in her hand, and the slow pace her breaths came at made her seem surprisingly human. Thalia couldn't shake that thought. On each exhale Sigarda cooed softly, almost like a dove, and her feathers ruffled lightly, making a sound like leaves in the wind. Thalia had known from the beginning that humans were not the equals of angels, she still did, but at that moment she had never felt closer to one. Thalia's eyes were drawn back to Sigarda's lips, and she touched her own lightly. Her face flushed with heat. Once again she was thankful that she had oiled those hinges so well.

As the door clicked shut behind her Thalia paused, and then sat down on the top step of the staircase. Hadn't she, not a moment before walking into the loft, decided that she wouldn't intrude on the angel's privacy? Her face flushed even hotter. She sat on that step for a while, waiting for the red heat to leave her cheeks, not worrying about whether or not Sigarda would find her there. After all, the angel tended to favor exiting through her window as opposed to the actual door. In their first meeting, Thalia hadn't given much thought to why she reacted the way she did upon meeting Sigarda. What person wouldn't stand in awe of such a being? Especially after being kissed by one? But Thalia had to wonder how long it would be before her face stopped flushing when she saw Sigarda. How long before Thalia's heart stopped accelerating in her presence? How much time needed to pass before she stopped thinking about the kiss?

Thalia's hands went to her lips again on impulse, and she took as deep breath. Then she took another. And one more after that. She relaxed her body, allowing her shoulders to slump and her knees to lean against each other.

Thalia couldn't keep on like this. She had duties to the order, and Grete and Odric would be returning from her scouting assignment soon. She rose back to her feet and straightened her posture. She took one more deep breath, exhaled slowly, and took one step downwards.

"I was wondering how long it would take for you to stand back up," Sigarda's soft voice rang through Thalia's head like the bells in Thraben Cathedral.

"Lady Sigarda!" Thalia whipped around on her heels, nearly tumbling down the stairs in the process. "I apologize; I didn't know you had woken." How had Thalia not heard the angel behind her? As quiet as Sigarda was, Thalia should have at least heard the screeching of the door's… hinges. Thalia suddenly found herself regretting how well she had oiled those infernal hinges.

"You seem out of sorts, commander," Sigarda cocked her head to the side, "was there something that you wished to discuss?"

"No," Thalia said, not realizing how short her answer sounded until after she said it. "I mean no, my lady."

Sigarda smiled a soft smile, and behind her the setting sun shone through the loft's open archways, and she was suddenly crowned with a crimson halo, her hair nearly woven together with the light. Thalia melted in an instant.

"If you've nothing to discuss, why do I find you outside my door, commander?"

Thalia found herself at a loss for words. It wasn't that she had none to say, but that she couldn't bring herself to say them, her mouth simply wouldn't move. Sigarda laughed, a gentle and tinkling titter.

"Well," she opened her door wider and gestured for Thalia to enter, "you may as well come in." Sigarda turned and walked back towards her chair, leaving the door open for Thalia.

As Thalia entered the loft for the second time that day she had only one thought; never again, for as long as she lived, would she oil the hinges of another door.


	3. Bargain

By the time Thalia had closed the door behind her, Sigarda had already returned to her seat, legs crossed. Thalia stiffened, a stark contrast to the relaxed way Sigarda was sitting. She cleared her throat.

"I see you've been doing some reading," Thalia gestured to the book that had previously been resting on Sigarda's lap, now closed on the side table next to her. It was covered in symbols that Thalia didn't recognize and she could only assume it was written in the angel's language. "Anything interesting?" Thalia tried desperately to bridge the gap between herself and Sigarda, and she hoped her attempts weren't as blatantly obvious as they felt.

"Mind numbingly boring, actually." Sigarda tittered. "The reading is necessary, though. It's a text on wards, written by one more experienced in their use than I. The employment of wards has always come more naturally to my sister, Bruna," Sigarda's eyes began to gloss over for a moment, "Gisela, for all her military prowess, is even more inept than I am in the way of wards and enchantments…" Sigarda was quiet for a time.

Thalia knew how it felt to lose comrades, but she also knew that she had no way of understanding just how Sigarda felt in that moment. For her own sisters to be influenced so heavily by Avacyn's madness… Thalia had no comparisons for something like that.

Eventually, Sigarda shook her head, a motion that echoed through her wings, and it almost made Thalia laugh.

"But enough about that," Sigarda said, "you were going to ask something of me?"

"Of course not," Thalia replied, a bit too quickly.

"Commander, trust me, I know when a person needs a favor of me." Sigarda rose from her seat and placed her hand on Thalia's shoulder. "You have allowed me to reside here without so much as a second thought. If it is within my power, I will grant your request."

As soon as Sigarda touched Thalia's shoulder, Thalia's body relaxed. She had to look up when the angel stood so close, since Sigarda was a full head taller at least. Even so, there was a sort of warmth to the angel's touch.

"I only ask," Thalia took a deep breath, "that, as often as you can, you spend some time among the recruits, and my cathars."

"Oh?" Sigarda cocked her head to the side. "Is that all?"

"Yes, my lady. Perhaps spend some of that time in the training field, or with the priests in the archives."

"If that is all you ask, then how could I say 'no'?" Sigarda lifted her book from the side table and replaced it in a bookshelf on a nearby wall. "May I ask why, though?"

"Well," Thalia straightened her posture again, "there are a number of soldiers who are… uncomfortable with your presence here. Considering the current inquisition of Avacyn, and the Alabaster and Goldnight flights, the soldiers are afraid. They are… unsure of where to place their trust."

"And what about you, commander?" Sigarda was still facing the bookshelf, her back to Thalia even though she had finished her task.

"What?"

"Are you afraid? Do you not trust me?"

"No," Thalia's response was hard and came quick, and it took her a moment to realize that her answer needed some clarification. "I am not afraid of you. If I felt there was any reason not to trust you, I would not have let you make this chapel your home."

Sigarda's wings fell slack, draping themselves on the floor. "Do you mean that, commander? Every word?"

"Yes," Thalia paused, and even she was surprised at how true it was, "every word."

"Well then," Sigarda turned around, finally, and the smile on her face brought one to Thalia's as well, "I would be more than happy to show the soldiers that I am here to help. I do have a request as well, though."

"A request?" Thalia hadn't expected Sigarda to ask for something in return. In fact, there was nothing she could think of that the angel could even want from her. Nothing she was capable of giving, that was. All Thalia had to offer was the loft, and she had already given that to her. Thalia clenched her fists. She needed her soldiers to trust Sigarda… so what if she was incapable of fulfilling Sigarda's request?

"Don't worry, my working with your soldiers is not conditional on you granting this request of mine." Sigarda approached Thalia and set her hand lightly on Thalia's shoulder, an act that once again caused the cathar's body to relax without even the slightest resistance. "I only ask that, as often as you can manage, you visit me."

"Of course." Thalia nodded, the request surprising her in its simplicity. "I can give reports as often as you like, even daily."

"Oh, no," Sigarda's eyes were sad for just a moment, though Thalia wasn't immediately sure of why, "I meant outside of Order business. Something more… casual. You can visit me here in the loft, or… elsewhere, if that's something you'd like."

Thalia wasn't sure what to say. Sigarda's request had been leagues simpler to understand when she had thought the angel wanted reports. "Visits that aren't reports." The idea was baffling.

Sigarda nodded.

"So," Thalia continued, puzzling out the equation in her head, "something like friends?"

"Yes," Sigarda laughed, "something like that."

"Okay." Thalia took a moment to absorb what was being asked of her. A sort of friendship with Sigarda, an angel. It was certainly strange. "How often should I visit?"

"Well, that's up to you. As often as you like, or if you ever find yourself wishing you had someone to talk with." Sigarda's eyes were, very suddenly, refusing to look at anything that wasn't Thalia. "Or if you ever simply wish to see me."

Thalia felt a heat rise in her cheeks, and she willed yjem not to redden. She didn't have to see herself to realize it wasn't working.

"I think I can manage that, my lady."

Sigarda's smile grew wider, and she nodded her head. Her feathers ruffled in what Thalia could only assume was excitement, and her wings perked up, finally picking themselves up off of the floor. The smile was infectious, and one grew on Thalia's face as Sigarda tried to suppress giggling lightly, a chirping sound that was almost bird-like.

"I'll get to fulfilling my end of the bargain then, commander." Sigarda was at the large open window of the loft in an instant, her wings spread wide. Before taking flight, she paused and looked back to Thalia. "There is one more thing I would like to ask of you. Two things, actually."

Thalia, stilled stunned by the series of unexpected turns the conversation had taken, could only nod in acknowledgement.

"Would you mind… if I call you by your first name, commander?" Sigarda was playing with her fingers, and Thalia realized that she wasn't the only one having difficulty with words. "Of course," Sigarda continued, "you are more than welcome to simply call me by my name as well. In fact, it would make me very happy if you were to do so." Sigarda stood there, in the window's opening with one food hanging outside, and waited for Thalia to respond. For the first time, she almost looked vulnerable, capable of being wounded. "That isn't too much to ask, is it?"

"No! O-of course not." Thalia waved her hands quickly, realizing how long she'd been standing there and doing nothing. "I would like that as well, my la-… Sigarda."

"Thank you… Thalia." The named rolled off of her tongue slowly, and it came with a lilting tone that set it apart from everything else she had said. Thalia's breath caught in her lungs. Sigarda smiled and nodded, reaching for her scythe which leaned against the wall beside her. She fell backwards out of the window, her wings unfolding behind her, not breaking eye contact with Thalia until she had disappeared completely.

Thalia was smiling too. She couldn't help herself, though it surprised her. She hadn't thought that Sigarda would want to be so casual, and for her to ask that they see each other outside of business was almost too much for Thalia to absorb. But it made her happy, too. She covered her face with her hands, as if doing so would make the smile fade and the giddiness vanish, but it didn't. Instead, she started to laugh. Thalia laughed in a way she had never laughed before, and the strange, excited feeling echoed throughout her entire being.

Eventually the laughing subsided, but the grin wouldn't leave. She couldn't stay in the loft for forever, though, so she decided she'd have to wear it for the rest of the day if need be. Thalia lingered in Sigarda's loft for a moment longer, taking in everything that happened, taking in the room around her.

Just a few days ago it had been without personality, a space meant merely to host formal meetings between flight Heron and Thalia, their chosen comitant. It had been pristine in a way that the rest of the chapel, that the whole of the parish in fact, had not been. Thalia had seen to that personally. From the doorway there were two stray steps that led to the room, which was now clearly more than a simple meeting room.

From those two stray stairs, on Thalia's right, there was a simple bed. It was one they moved from the parish's living quarters, and Thalia had originally been embarrassed that there was not a sort of bedding more fitting for one with Sigarda's rank. It was the same hard mattress that the soldiers used, that Thalia used, with the same scratchy sheets, though Thalia had went to great lengths to ensure none of Sigarda's were stained or weathered. Just across from it, tucked against the wall on the other side of the stairs and door, rested the chair and side table Sigarda had been sleeping in only a short while ago. Any free space against the walls was filled with standing book shelves, though they couldn't contain all of the reading materials Sigarda had brought.

That was what truly made the room feel alive. The books were scattered everywhere. Most were organized on the shelving, but some were stacked on the table, or even scattered about the room on the floor half opened. Thalia had no idea how Sigarda could have even gotten them all here so quickly, but she had. She knew she had granted the angel leave to use the room as she wished but the untidiness of it all was… unexpected. Without thought, Thalia began picking the books off the floor and stacking them on the table wherever there was room. The titles were mostly in angel-tongue, so Thalia didn't afford each of them anything more than a curious glance. Aside from one.

The one book written in the common-tongue caught Thalia off guard in title alone.

"The Knight and Her Kind"

Curious, she flipped to the first couple of pages, glancing over the synopsis.

Thalia's eyes widened, her face reddened, and she nearly through the book onto the bed in her haste to put it back down. It was a romance novel. Not the sort that one would hide away for fear of embarrassment, but the sort that, from what Thalia had gleaned, exemplified the courting of a woman of nobility and position by a knight.

Thalia's breath caught in her throat as she realized the breach of privacy. She rushed out of the room as quickly as she could, silently closing the door behind her and doing her best to ignore the pang of guilt in her chest.

As she reached the bottom of the staircase and took the first few steps away, she noticed something peculiar. She had ascended and descended those stairs countless time, but this was the first time that her footsteps didn't echo in the same way. Her smile melted away and her hand went to the hilt of her blade. The parish was warded, that included the chapel and its loft, so it was unlikely to be a geist tapping away at the walls, but it couldn't have been one of her soldiers either. What reason would they have for sneaking around?

Thalia's eyes searched the chapel's main room that the base of the staircase opened into, but she saw as much as she heard, which amounted to nothing. The cathar took a deep breath and removed her hand from her blade. She didn't have time to chase imaginary oddities, Grete and Odric would be back from patrol soon, and she had to be ready to meet with them. She made her way to her stuffy office, and she couldn't help but think about how stark the difference was between that dusty room and Sigarda's loft.


End file.
